Abysmal Dust

Today I am bit confused about writing. Now days whenever I got sad and felling depression I used to write. I felt that I have somebody who is listening to me carefully and sharing some things with me I guess. I am forgetting time from my small life. This thing compressing time but I am enjoying every moment without missing any thing. I am sorting some golden moments from that only. For the sake of these moments I am passionately going on and on. The abysmal dust of old remembrance directing me on some diversion, which might be known for me. Unable to say some moment which fades away from my rusty mind.